Big, fat flurries of snow blew around Emily and Slade as they entered the training arena where the Diamonds’ New Year’s Eve party was being held. Christmas had surpassed Slade’s expectations for the day, beginning with Mark’s look of glee as he saw his presents, his exclamations of delight as he opened each one. Emily had thanked Slade again for the fawn, and he’d felt pleased that she was keeping it near her in her room. Maybe it meant something to her. Maybe he was beginning to mean something to her.
That thought startled him. Did he want to mean something to her? He didn’t know how to settle in one place. He didn’t know how to be a husband or a father or the type of man a woman could need for longer than it took him to get restless and move on. The thing was—he’d had no sign of restlessness since arriving at the Double Blaze. He put aside that consideration to ponder later.
Slade wondered if Dallas O’Neill would be here tonight. He expected he would. Christmas Day would have been perfect if he hadn’t been around. But Slade had managed to make polite conversation with him and act friendly for Emily’s sake.
The inside of the arena was a sight to behold. Tables and chairs lined the perimeter. Bales of hay were stacked here and there for sitting, for leaning, and just for atmosphere, Slade supposed. At the far end, there was a stage, and a band was playing. A woman stepped up to the mike and began a familiar country tune. Evergreen boughs and red bows, intertwined with tinsel garlands, draped the walls.
“This is some shindig,” Slade said close to Emily’s ear.
When she turned to look up at him, her cheek almost brushed his. “Amos Diamond knows how to throw a party. He’s not necessarily well-liked, but he is respected, and cutters come from all over the country to buy his quarter horses and have them trained.”
A few coatracks filled the entryway to the arena. “Would you like to shed your coat?” Slade asked. “Or do you want to take it with you?”
“I can leave it here, then it won’t be in the way.” Holding it for her as she took it off, Slade’s fingers brushed her shoulders and their gazes met. It had been that way since Christmas—the electric charge that ran through him whenever they touched, the tingling awareness of just being around her. He hung his own jacket beside her coat. He’d worn the white shirt and string tie along with the black jeans, and the way she was looking at him, he was glad he had.
“You look pretty tonight,” he said simply, liking the way she’d fixed part of her hair in a barrette in the back, pulling it away from her face. She’d worn lipstick again, too. Her long-sleeved red blouse had a ruffle around the collar and around both cuffs. Tiny blue embroidery decorated the placket. Her blue denim skirt was full and had a ruffle around the bottom that almost touched the instep of her boots.
“Thank you,” she murmured, blushing with his compliment.
“You’re welcome,” he said with a smile, then rested his hand at the small of her back and guided her into the party. She didn’t move away from him, and he could feel the heat of her skin under the cotton blouse. His fingers tingled, and his body knew desire that was aching to be satisfied. Yet he knew it might not be. He knew Emily’s values.
They found seats at a table with people Emily told him she had a nodding acquaintance with. Unlike the women in the social hall after Thanksgiving, these neighbors didn’t seem curious about his relationship with Emily. They just wanted to have a New Year’s Eve to remember and that was fine with him. Soon squares formed in the middle of the arena and a caller came to the mike.
“Do you square dance?” Slade asked Emily.
“Since I was a kid,” she answered with a smile.
Standing, he offered her his hand. She took it and they joined one of the squares.
During the next hour, Slade glimpsed a side of Emily he wished he knew better as she do-si-doed and kicked up her heels with the best of them. She was almost carefree while she laughed and talked and joked with those around her as if she didn’t have a responsibility in the world. In his estimation, she had too many responsibilities, and he was glad that for this one night she could have some good old-fashioned fun. He’d like to see to it that she had more. He’d like to see to a lot of things.
When the squares broke up, they went back to the table for snacks and a drink, but then the band started playing a slow Kevin Sharp ballad, and Slade longed to hold Emily in his arms.
“Do you slow dance as good as you square dance?” he asked.
“I guess you’ll have to dance with me to find out,” she bantered back with an almost flirtatious look.
She was irresistibly pretty, sexy and sweet, and he led her out to the middle of the floor and took her into his arms. They’d touched and passed and connected now and then while they’d square danced, but this was altogether different. Holding her close, he brought her hand into his chest where he was sure she could feel the beat of his heart. The scent of her perfume was more intoxicating than years-old whiskey, and the ache inside him grew higher and wider and deeper. It was more than sexual and he didn’t begin to understand it. It had to do with holidays and family and belonging in one place…to one person.
For how many years had he told himself he was a loner, and he liked it that way? But holding Emily in his arms, savoring the way she made him feel, told another story.
Her breasts pressed against his chest, and he ran his hand caressingly down her back. When she looked up at him, time seemed to stop. He bent his head, aware that her neighbors could be watching. Instead of kissing her, he brushed his cheek against hers, touched his lips to her temple and felt the softness of her hair across his jaw. It was more erotic than kissing in a way. More tantalizing. Bringing her even closer, he locked his hands at her waist and she linked her arms around his neck. They were swaying now rather than actually dancing. The closeness seemed necessary, part of who they were becoming…what they were becoming to each other. He was almost ready to forget about neighbors and gossip and kiss her right here in the middle of the party.
The music and voices and smells of hay and food and evergreen boughs seemed like a hazy reality to Emily as she danced with Slade. At that moment, he filled her world with power and strength and a protectiveness that felt oddly good. She’d never wanted to be protected, but with Slade, lots of things were different. A curling tension in her belly told her this man could arouse her to a height she’d never experienced. His looks, his slight touches, his scent, incited such a basic need in her that she’d been afraid of it. But tonight she was embracing it rather than fearing it. Tonight she wanted to explore it and, from the way Slade was holding her, she got the idea he wanted to explore it, too. When his lips grazed her temple, she drew in an unsteady breath.
But then suddenly, he put space between them.
When she looked up, she realized why. Dallas was standing there, looking serious and determined. “May I cut in?” he asked politely.
“That’s up to Emily,” Slade said tersely.
She didn’t want to leave Slade’s arms, but she couldn’t slight Dallas. Besides, she’d have the rest of the evening with Slade and a breather might do them both good. When she nodded and smiled at Dallas, Slade’s arms slipped away from her, and she suddenly felt cold. One look at Slade’s face told her she might have made the wrong decision.
But before he could turn away, she touched his hand. “Again later?”
His stormy blue eyes softened. “I’ll be waiting,” he said.
Dallas took her in a looser, less intimate hold.
“Are you getting serious about him?” Dallas asked without any preliminary conversation.
“I’m not sure what you mean by serious.”
“Don’t play word games with me, Emily. Are you losing your heart to him?”
She studied her longtime friend—the wayward lock of brown hair falling across his brow, his handsome face, his green eyes. “We’ve been friends a long time, Dallas. But I’m not comfortable discussing Slade with you.”
“That about says it all.” He gave her a probing look. “I guess it won’t do any good if I warn you that you’re going to get hurt.”
“My eyes are wide-open and I know Slade will be moving on, if that’s what you mean.”
“I didn’t think you were that kind of woman, Emily.”
She stopped dancing. “What kind of woman?”
“Never mind,” Dallas mumbled, looking unsettled.
“The kind of woman who sleeps with a man and then forgets about it?” she asked, angry now. “Seems to me, men find that idea just dandy. I don’t see a ring on your finger yet. Are you going to tell me you’ve kept yourself for the right woman?”
Dallas’s cheeks flushed and his green eyes flashed with gold, but then he let out a sigh. “Of course I’m not.” He shook his head. “I should have remembered you can give as good as you get. Can we finish this dance or are you going to stand in the middle of the floor not moving?”
Wrinkling her nose at him, they took the traditional position again. “So when are you going to be home to stay?” she asked.
“At the end of August, I hope. But I’ll be back and forth a few times before then. I’ve decided to build a house on the crest overlooking the north pasture. I’ll be supervising basics from a distance, but then I’m going to do all the finish work when I get home.”
“What type of house?” she asked.
He grinned as if just thinking about it made him happy. “A log home. Maybe you can help me decorate it.”
“You don’t want one of those big city ladies doing it?” she teased.
“You know what I think about city ladies, Emily.”
The music stopped and she and Dallas separated. But he looked down at her fondly. “I wish you the best. You know that, don’t you? I want you to be happy.”
“I know you do. Thanks for caring about me, Dallas. It means a lot.”
An emotion passed over his face that she didn’t quite understand, but then it was gone and she thought maybe she’d imagined it because he smiled at her again. “Have fun with Slade tonight if that’s what you want. And if I don’t see you again later, I’ll let you know when the ground breaking’s going to be.”
Emily stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. He moved away and waved before he headed for the front entrance. It looked as if he wasn’t going to stay. She wished he’d find someone special.
Slade was involved in a conversation with the man beside him when she returned to their table. He ended it and stood. “Dallas left?” he asked with one arched brow.
“It looks like it.”
“Good. Then I won’t have to worry about anybody cutting in again. It sounds like another slow one. Are you ready?”
She was ready to be held in Slade’s arms again and maybe she was ready for more.
As the saying went, they danced the night away, returning to the table now and then, but always eager to hold each other, sway to the music and sample pleasure that seemed forbidden in the midst of a crowd.
It was nearly midnight when Slade guided her away from the couples that were still dancing. Taking her hand, he led her behind a stack of hay bales.
“What’s wrong?” she asked breathlessly as they finally stopped in a secluded corner.
“Nothing at all’s wrong. I just thought we could use a little privacy when midnight finally struck.”
Strains of Auld Lang Syne floated from the stage and someone began a countdown. She didn’t need a crystal ball to figure out what Slade had in mind. “I think privacy’s a great idea.”
Looking up at him, she anticipated his kiss, ready to enjoy it fully. But just as Slade took her into his arms, there was a shuffle, a giggle and then, “Oops, I guess someone else had the same idea we did.” Emily pulled away from Slade and saw Sharon Conner, a girl she’d gone to school with, standing beside a tall man.
She tried to hide her embarrassment. “Hi, Sharon.”
“We’ll find another corner,” the brunette said with a smile. As she and her date walked away, Emily heard her say, “Emily was married to Pete Lawrence. I hear the guy she’s with is a drifter, but anybody’s got to be better than Pete.”
The lights blinked, horns blew and Emily felt as if the whole world knew her business. Why had she come here tonight with Slade, letting herself open to gossip? Why had she thought she could have a good time and it would be no one’s business but hers and Slade’s?
“Emily?” Slade was looking down at her, his blue eyes pinning her still.
“We’d better go,” she said.
But he clasped her shoulders and wouldn’t let her turn away. “What did that woman mean?”
“This isn’t the place—”
In the cacophony of voices and noisemakers and the band finishing their song, Slade raised his voice. “I think it’s time you tell me about your marriage. I can wait another hour or so if you want to dance some more but we’re going to talk about it tonight.”
This time there was no way she could evade Slade’s questions. The determined set of his jaw told her that. Part of her rebelled against Slade’s decisive intent, but another part of her knew it was time to tell him. “I don’t feel like dancing anymore. Let’s go home.”
Wind whistled against the cab of his truck as Slade drove back to the Double Blaze. He had a ton of questions. The cold penetrated the interior of the vehicle, though the heater strove to keep it warm. Emily sat close to her door as if she needed space between them, as if she were miles away. He decided to wait to begin until they got back to the Double Blaze.
Because of the cold wind, he let Emily out at the door by Rod and Mavis’s utility vehicle. The couple had offered to baby-sit, saying they could have their own New Year’s celebration in front of the TV.
After Slade parked the truck and went inside, he heard Mavis telling Emily, “Amanda just fell asleep. We let Mark stay up until ten and play cards with us. I hope that was all right.”
Emily assured them that was fine, then took a loaf of cranberry bread she’d baked from the bread box and gave it to Mavis. Finally after hugs, handshakes, “Happy New Years” and the closing of the door, Slade and Emily were alone.
Slipping off his string tie, he laid it on the table and opened the top two buttons of his shirt. “I guess you want to check on the kids.”
She nodded.
“I’ll come up with you and say good-night to Mark if he wakes up.”
Emily went up the stairs ahead of him and went to her bedroom while he pushed open Mark’s door. The little boy was fast asleep, but he had kicked off his covers. Crossing the room, Slade pulled them up to Mark’s neck and gave them a gentle pat. If he was a father, he could do this every night and never get tired of it.
But he didn’t know how to be a father. No one had ever taught him. And to be a father, you had to stay in one place for a very long time.
Closing Mark’s door, he saw the door to Emily’s room was open. She was standing over Amanda’s crib, looking down at her daughter. He stood beside her, aware of his heartbeat, aware of the rise and fall of Emily’s breasts, aware of the little baby in the crib. The night-light by the dresser glowed dimly in the dark room.
“She’s such a miracle, isn’t she, Slade? When I hold her, when I feed her, sometimes I can’t believe it.” Emily looked up at him. “And you helped bring her into the world.”
That was probably one of the proudest moments of his life, helping Emily bring a new life into the world. But looking down at Amanda, he realized she was the result of the union between Emily and Pete Lawrence and he couldn’t wait a moment longer to ask the many questions that were stomping around in his head.
“Do you still love your husband?”
Emily’s eyes widened and she looked surprised by the question. “No, I don’t still love Pete. By the time he died…my feelings for him were almost gone.”
Slade figured it would be better to start at the beginning. “How did you two meet?”
Stepping away from the crib, Emily sat on the corner of the bed. “In school. He was two years ahead of me. When he graduated, he got a job at a feed store in Billings. He started to come calling before I was out of school and, after I graduated, we got married. I just never realized…”
When she didn’t continue, he prompted, “What?”
“Pete wasn’t the man I thought he was. There was nothing terrible about our marriage. I guess some wouldn’t even think anything was wrong with it. But Pete… I guess he just never wanted the responsibilities of being a husband or father. After we got married, we moved in here with Dad. Right away I started to see that Pete wasn’t going to pull his share of the load. Dad never said much, but I know he minded for me. Pete wanted me to take care of him. Everything from his laundry to—” She stopped abruptly.
“Sex?” Slade asked pointedly and sat down beside her.
Her cheeks became red. “I don’t want to go into that.” After a pause, she went on. “I thought having a baby might make a difference. But after Mark was born, nothing changed except I had more to do. I tried to keep Pete happy. I tried to give him everything he needed, but it got to the point that I didn’t know what he needed. He hardly talked to me…watched TV when he wasn’t somewhere else. It was as if I was here for him, but he was never here for me. The year before he died, he took to drinking more. That’s why his car went off the road.”
There were a lot of things Slade wanted to say, but he knew he’d better not. He didn’t want to offend Emily or her sense of propriety or her commitment to a marriage that obviously didn’t have much good in it for her. But he did ask, “Why didn’t you divorce him?”
“I believed in our vows. I believed if I kept trying hard enough…” She shook her head. “Amanda was an accident. I didn’t even know I was pregnant until after Pete died.”
“I don’t know much about marriage,” Slade said gruffly. “But I suspect just one person can’t make it work.” There was something else he had to ask. “Was Pete ever…rough with you?”
Her reply was instantaneous. “Oh, no, never. It’s just…the feelings I had for him changed so. I lost respect for him. After the first year of marriage, I realized I’d been infatuated with him. I wanted the security of being part of a couple, like other girls, and I thought him being older and all would give me that. But I wonder now if I was ever really in love with him. I’m determined never to want that again, to stand on my own two feet and make my own life.”
After a long silence, Slade asked, “He wasn’t much of a father to Mark, either, was he?”
She shook her head. “You’ve given him more time and attention since you’ve been here than Pete ever did.”
The way she was looking at him made Slade’s heart race so fast he could hardly breathe. He moved closer to her, and when she didn’t inch away, he put his arm around her. “We haven’t rung in the new year yet. Do you still feel like it?”
Her voice was almost a whisper, but he heard the soft “Yes.”
When he took her lips, he couldn’t get enough. At the party, he’d intended to coax her, go slowly, deepen whatever bonds were forming between them. But now he couldn’t even find slow, and they zoomed along to hot and hungry and passionate. The shadows of the room, the silence of night, the wind blowing against the windows invited intimacy. One kiss became two, and then another that seemed to last a lifetime. He stroked her hair and without knowing exactly how it happened, he found himself lying beside her on the bed, caressing her cheek, rasping his tongue against hers until time and place and reality slipped away. She was sweeter than any honey, her skin softer than any flower petal, her perfume so taunting it made him dizzy. Or was it the desire that was making his head spin and his body ache?
He couldn’t help but want more, and his hand slid to the buttons on her blouse. He began unfastening them, one by one. She tugged his shirt from his jeans and when her hands splayed across his rib cage, he sucked in a breath and thought he’d die from the sheer pleasure of her touch. Her fingers sifted through his chest hair as he kissed her neck.
But when his hand came to her breast, she stopped him. “Slade, I can’t.” Jerking away, she sat up. “I mean I’m breast-feeding and—”
“I know you’re breast-feeding, Emily. That’s not news to me. Are you telling me I need to be careful? Are you saying—”
“I’m saying I can’t do this.”
“What can’t you do, Emily?”
“I thought I could just be here with you. I thought I could let you kiss me and touch me, but…”
“Is it too soon?” He was still looking for a sane reason for her stopping.
“No. But, Slade, that’s not it. Even if we could, if we did, everything would change. I’d change. I’m not a woman who can lie with a man and forget about it in the morning. Don’t you understand that?”
Oh, he understood it, and he wished to heaven he could change it. But he knew he couldn’t. Emily was who she was. “Then what was tonight about?”
“I thought I could be different. I’m sorry. I should have known myself better.”
Sitting up, he threw his legs over the side of the bed. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. Neither of us does. This has been building ever since I arrived here, and maybe it’s time I think about leaving. I told Mark I’d stay for his Fun Festival and I will. But I’ll plan on heading out at the end of January.”
She was silent for a few moments and then as she buttoned her blouse, she said, “If you think that’s best.”
Pushing himself to his feet, he looked down at her. “I do. For all of us. But I think it will be better if we don’t tell Mark just yet. Let’s wait till closer to the time.”
“If that’s what you want,” she said again in that polite tone, and he wished she’d say more. Yet he wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted to hear.
At the door to her room, he stopped a moment and looked over at the crib, then he closed the door to Emily’s bedroom and went downstairs thinking the new year was off to a hell of a start.
En route to Denver, Hunter Coleburn couldn’t wait to land and call the brother he was determined to get to know. A week into the new year, after glancing out the window of the business jet into the dark night, Hunter turned his attention back to the papers in his hand. He’d wrapped up negotiations sooner than he’d expected, and he could have waited until morning to fly back to Denver. But once he’d landed in New York, his client had offered the use of his jet and Hunter had his reasons for wanting to return sooner rather than later. Though his gaze rested on the terms of a contract he was drawing up, his thoughts settled on Slade Coleburn.
He’d been stunned to learn he had a twin brother.
It was probably the second most important event in his life. The first…
He smothered thoughts of Eve Ruskin as he had for the past five years and focused rather on a childhood in a family where he’d never felt as if he quite belonged. John and Martha Morgan had given him tender care and a home as they had their two natural children. But Hunter had always felt different from his brother Larry and sister Jolene. Larry had always reminded Hunter he was adopted. And the light in John Morgan’s eyes didn’t seem to shine as proudly for Hunter as it did for his siblings. It was a gut-level feeling of aloneness that had been with him as far back as he could remember, and now maybe he knew the reason why.
When his father and mother had called him in London before Christmas, he’d finally learned the secret they’d been keeping.
Their conversation was etched indelibly in his mind.
“Hunter, your mother and I have something to tell you. She’s on the other phone,” John Morgan had said.
Hunter’s stomach had clenched. Was one of them sick? Had something happened to Larry or Jolene? But before he could ask, his mother had admitted, “Hunter. We’ve kept something from you all these years. We thought it was best, but…”
“What is it, Mom?”
“You have a twin,” his father answered.
Hunter had been stunned as he repeated, “A twin?”
“His name is Slade,” John Morgan continued. There was a pause. “This is complicated to try to explain over the phone. But he’s been searching for you. He put an ad in the paper, and I wrote to him. We received a picture from him and…you look alike. Slade’s hair is brown and yours is black, but that’s the only difference.”
Absorbing the idea that he had a brother he’d never known about took a few moments. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“We didn’t know if he was still alive,” his father responded gruffly. “We were supposed to adopt both of you. But then a lot of things happened at once. Slade contracted pneumonia and was hospitalized. He wasn’t responding to treatment. Your mother found out she was pregnant, and I was offered a job in Montana. We had to make decisions, Hunter, that were best for all of us. The boys’ home wouldn’t let us go through with Slade’s adoption with him so sick. They said if he made it, they’d find a good family for him. With a new baby on the way, and moving, our budget was already stretched tight…”
“So you left Slade behind.”
“Yes.”
Hunter had taken a deep breath. “Do you have a number where I can reach him?”
“Yes.” His father gave it to him, then added, “He’s at the Double Blaze Ranch near Billings.”
“Hunter?” his mother had asked softly.
“Yes, Mom.”
“We’ll talk about all of this when you get back.”
Now he was coming back. What was there to discuss? They’d left his twin behind, and Hunter didn’t know if he could ever forgive them for that.
Hunter wasn’t the type of man to believe in psychic connections. He didn’t believe in what he couldn’t see, touch, or feel. Yet as soon as he’d heard Slade’s voice… Maybe meeting Slade could affect the well of emptiness inside him, as meeting Eve had so many years ago.
Eve. Usually she only disturbed his dreams, not his waking moments.
Again pushing thoughts of her into a closed box in his mind, he thought about meeting his brother face-to-face.
The pilot announced that it was snowing in Denver but the airport was open. They would be landing in ten minutes. Hunter gathered the papers on his lap. He’d been too distracted to work. That wasn’t like him. With a frown, he stuffed papers into a folder, then into his briefcase. Rolling down his white shirtsleeves, he fastened the buttons on the cuffs, eager to land, eager to make a call to his brother. In his eagerness, he forgot to fasten his seat belt and instead planned a trip to Montana in his mind and determined how long he could stay. A week, maybe ten days. He had an important merger meeting on the twentieth.
Hunter hardly even noticed the descent of the plane. But suddenly it was hitting the runway hard. The jolt threw him out of his seat and, as the plane skidded crazily and crashed into something with a crunch of metal, his head hit the floor, and everything went black.